Star Wars: Cellular Automata
by Suukorak
Summary: An elite demolitions squad teams up with an ex-Mandalorian to defend the Republic against the strengthening Separatist movement.
1. Chapter 1

"Kriff! There's no end to them!"

Def, a clone trooper clad in orange armor with white lozanges, made a leaping spin into a super battle droid, bringing it down to the floor and sending it spinning off the edge of the observation balcony.

"That's kind of the idea of a factory." BT-422-12, similarly equipped, dealt a super battle droid a kick in the face and sent it toppling into its neighbor. "If you need to, we'll retreat."

"No. Just complaining." Def fired a shot into the hip joint of another B2 super battle droid, causing its magnetic connections to short. The droid's legs fell off and it fell to the floor, helpless. "Charge said we give them as much time as possible to blow the place. That means we don't retreat unless we absolutely have to."

"We _are_ outnumbered. What do you intend to do?"

Def glanced up and saw a huge beam supporting the roof. He did some quick calculations, ending with the result that the support system was multiply redundant and would not collapse from the destruction of any one beam. He grabbed a magnetic thermal detonator from his belt, armed it, and hurled it at the beam, shouting to his companion. "Jump!"

The two leapt off the balcony, falling into the factory below. They landed on an SRT's pallet as the detonator exploded, bringing the beam crashing down on the balcony. Not having been designed to support such weight, the balcony buckled and fell, pulling out the floor of the adjoining room. A few B2s fell with the balcony and floor, and the factory, ever blind to its destruction, regularly dropped B2s through the hole in the floor to their destruction.

BT-422-12 exhaled. He could feel his adrenaline draining away. The hard part was over. He felt his armor jerk forward a moment before he was lifted from the pallet by the droid's arm. He grabbed on and managed to keep from falling for a few seconds. He looked around desperately. He was losing his grip as the droid shook him more violently.

Def leapt onto the droid's arm and grabbed his friend's hand. Pulling him loose, he blasted the droid's wrist joint, shutting down the hand. The two clones scrambled up the droid's arm and onto its back, where they dodged behind its neck to avoid the irritated droid's swipes.

As the droid proceeded on its preprogrammed route, it got close to a part of the conveyor belt. The two clones leapt in unison, both landing on a welding arm. Their momentum caused it to disconnect from the suspended belt and fall to the floor of the factory, almost 40 meters below.

The arm's buckling shell provided sufficient cushioning for them to survive, but they were shaken and stunned when they landed. Another clone approached, also wearing the ordnance specialists' orange armor. "You all right?"

BT-422-12 picked himself up and sat down on the arm. "Yeah. How's the mission going?"

Radian extended his hand to Def, helping him up. "I finished my calculations. The rest is up to Triplet and Roll. Charge told me to get you back to him for forced exit. When you're ready."

Def dropped his blaster back in its holster. "Let's go."

Triplet reached out, a large magnetic explosive in his hand. A moment before the mine touched the beam he was reaching toward, its magnet activated and it leapt from Triplet's hand, gluing itself to the metal. After carefully adjusting several dials, he pushed a button and stepped away. "That's all of them, sir," he said. "We'd best get going when Def and Twelve get here. I don't like staying here."

"Is there something wrong with the mines?" Charge paused, considering possibilities. "Are they unstable?"

"No, sir." Triplet knew he looked as grim as usual with his helmet's frowning breath filter, but he was smiling. He was always happy when he was needed. "The B2s are poor hosts."

"Very true!" Def shouted as he approached. "So we won't regret leaving them behind."

Charge turned to BT-422-12, who walked next to Def. "Report."

"Sir. We blew a roof support beam and destroyed the balcony where we were fighting the droids. The activation room's floor was torn out by the beam and the droids are being released at the top of the building and drop to the bottom."

Roll chuckled. "These places don't even have sensors!"

Def turned to him. "I disconnected them before we entered, remember?"

Radian stepped forward. "All right. Let's get out of here before our hosts ask us to stay."

• § •

Triplet stood two paces in front of his teammates, cradling a small remote in his hand. They had walked about a quarter kilometer away from the almost-subterranean factory. Hraka was a harsh world with no water and no life, but it was rich in natural resources, making it ideal for automated factories. This B2 factory was brand new, and ungarrisoned – it was standard CIS policy to guard battle droid factories with a portion of their own output. Pity this one never got to finish making its garrison.

Charge inhaled slowly, and half-whispered. "Now."

Triplet thumbed the button. For a second, his heart stopped. The mines hadn't exploded. He would have to go back and execute manual detonation, which was suicide when the entrance was on the top floor and the mines on the bottom.

A soft creak reverberated through the rocky desert, then a muffled snapping sound as overtaxed beams bent and cracked. One corner of the factory caved in, then the entire roof dropped into the factory's excavated crater. This facility was no more.

Charge was the first to turn around, calling the others from the underwhelming destruction to their gunship. The pilots and the two clone troopers sent to bring them back had also watched, and turned back to board the LAAT.

The gunner was the first to see them. Two destroyer droids unfolded between them and the gunship. The pilots and the escort instinctively leapt for cover, but the bomb squad just drew their weapons. Roll was the first to act, and being the grenade specialist, was well-equipped to do so. He threw a tactical EMP grenade between the two droids. The resulting pulse was strong enough to puncture the droidekas' shields and short them out. Def ran up to them and blasted each one in the head.

Roll exhaled, looking back at his teammates over his shoulder. "Never outpaced a droid before. I was sure one of them was going to shoot me before that grenade exploded."

Charge looked around for a moment, locating his forces and determining if there were any other droids in the area. He turned to Roll. "Well done."

The pilots, visibly frightened, stood up from the ground and dusted their armor off. They quickly got into the LAAT and powered it up. The escort and the bomb squad got inside, with Roll holding his head a little bit higher than the others. The escorts got into the ball turrets, and the gunship took off. The bomb squad, numbering only six and having no company in the gunship, had the luxury of sitting until they reached Sector C's base of operations, run out of the adapted assembly hall of an _Acclamator_-class assault ship.

• § •

The squad disembarked from the gunship, Charge leading the way. When the bomb squad entered the hall, the clone commander, Neyo, stood. "Welcome back, BC Twenty-two-four." Charge winced under his duraplast frown. He hated being called by number. It was too much like being a droid. He was painfully aware that anyone outside the army or any military officers who didn't participate in combat directly didn't see him as much more than a battle droid.

Neyo turned to Charge. "You may remove your helmet, BC-22-4."

"With respect, sir," Charge bowed his head slightly. "I'd prefer to keep it on."

"Suit yourself. How did your raid go?"

"We destroyed the factory completely. It has collapsed on itself and most of its machinery should be crushed."

"Losses?"

"None, sir."

"Resistance?" Charge was displeased with his commander's lack of appreciation for his soldiers' lives.

"Just a few B2s. The factory hadn't finished her garrison. Besides that, two droidekas, taken out by Ro – by BT-323-41. A most excellent man, sir. I would like to commend him."

"Very well. You and your squad may take a gunship to receive your orders from General Koon. He's at Sector B field HQ. Good luck."

"Sir."

• § •

Bomb Squad L5 boarded the same LAAT again. The pilot glanced back at them. "Where shall I take you, sir?"

Charge looked up. "Sector B field headquarters. No hurry, keep us safe."

The pilot said nothing. He took off as a response, guiding the gunship out from under the assault ship. Charge relaxed as the ship leveled out.

"Sir?" Radian cocked his head, as he always did when he had a question. "What's our mission?"

Charge sighed. "I don't know, Radian. That's why we're going to the field HQ. General Koon will give us our new orders there."

"They should create a better communication holo-network so we wouldn't have to fly all over just to get another mission." BT-422-12 shook his head. "Stupid."

"If this were a normal mission, they would have transmitted it by hologram and Commander Neyo would know. You know that. This is obviously a special mission." Triplet playfully knocked on BT-422-12's helmet. "Stupid."

"That should be your name," Roll chuckled. "Report, private Stupid."

"No." BT-422-12 shook his head, laughing. "That's… no."

"By the flames, what are you looking for?" Def looked at BT-422-12. "Finding a name isn't that hard. You've been nameless for nine years now. We can't continue calling you Four-Twenty-Two Twelve."

Suddenly the gunship jerked violently. A curse sprang unbidden from Roll's comlink. "Watch it!"

The gunner leaned back, glancing over his shoulder momentarily. "Sir," he sounded stressed. "We're under fire. We need gunners for the ball turrets!"

Charge spun to Radian. "Radian, you and Roll get in those turrets. Def, stand by in case we need repairs. Triplet, make a full inventory of our arsenal. Twelve, set up some gun emplacements and make the speeders ready." Charge paused to catch his breath. "And somebody tell me what the blazes is going on."

The gunners, having the best field of view and having nothing to distract them, were the first to decipher the situation. "Sir!" Radian called over his comlink. "Three Vulture Droids tailing us. We haven't taken damage yet, but we can only bring the rear cannon to bear."

Charge noticed they were flying through a short tunnel in a long cavern wall. "Pilot," he said, his voice calmer as he figured out what the situation was, "as soon as you get out of this tunnel, go straight up and back over the wall. We'll bounce them."

The pilot did not respond, but carried out the maneuver perfectly. The gunship dropped in behind the Vulture Droids just as they came out of the tunnel, slowing down to try to locate the gunship. The LAAT's heavy frontal firepower came to bear, and within two seconds, all three droids were gone.

"Ha!" Radian exclaimed in triumph as he got out of the starboard ball turret. "Never mess with a LAAT in its home territory."

• § •

As the LAAT arrived at field headquarters, Charge noticed the General himself waiting to meet them. He jumped down just before the gunship touched the ground. General Plo Koon stepped toward him. "Welcome, Corporal…"

Charge smiled under his helmet. Jedi always valued lives, even of the replaceable clones. "Charge, sir."

"Ah. I have a special mission for you and your squad. Have them all report to me at the building."

"Sir." Charge turned back to his squad. "There's nothing to do here. Everyone follow me."

The squad marched in single file up to the temporary building set up in the headquarters. Charge opened the door and entered.

Def glanced around. There were a few clones in the building, monitoring radar and other input screens, and the Jedi and his Padawan, but there were two people distinctly out of place. A clone reconnaissance trooper, known as an ARF trooper, stood near a corner. Next to him stood a man in full Mandalorian battle armor. The armor was crimson and blue, and the man stood absolutely still and straight. If not for the breathing sounds he heard, he would have sworn that the armor was empty.

Plo Koon turned to greet the squad. "Welcome. As you know, I have a special mission for you. You are to take these two men to assist you –" he gestured to the ARF trooper and the Mandalorian "– and proceed to the coordinates on this datapad." Plo Koon handed Charge a datapad, currently turned off. "Further instructions are also on that pad. Be cautious, and good luck."

Charge stepped outside of the building, followed by his squad and the two others. He turned away from them and turned the datapad on. It was manually disconnected from the HoloNet, and was on internal memory only. Charge read the following:

To Commander BC-22-4

Proceed to coordinates 93-88-B. You are to destroy the Core Ship located there, which houses the Command Computer for this sector. Take a LAAT/i and do not fail.

Plo Koon, Commanding Officer, Force D

Charge activated his comlink, talking to the LAAT pilot. "Pilot, this is Charge, leader of the bomb squad you transported earlier. Do you need some rest?"

Being so close, the pilot's voice was clear. "Yes, sir, if you don't mind."

"Well, take a half-hour and then report to me. I'll be outside the building."

"Right, sir."

Charge turned to Radian, his second-in-command. "Think I gave him enough time?"

"Well, sir," Radian looked up. "I've never piloted a LAAT in a firefight before. I wouldn't know."

The Mandalorian looked at Charge. "I think that's perfect. He'll need a chewstim to keep his energy up, but no significant loss of performance. He'll have to do watches with the gunner when we get there."

Charge stared up at the Mandalorian. The man's voice was young, but had little enthusiasm; it was replaced by flat certainty born of experience. The clone spoke. "Who are you?"

"Vakir Sula'e. I'm a freelance warrior."

Radian looked up, puzzled. "The Republic hires Mandalorians?"

"No. I'm a… I was a Mandalorian once, but I didn't like the company. Too sullen."

"That's saying a lot." Triplet wished he could express his amusement on his helmet. BT-422-12 turned towards him. He couldn't tell directly, but from the speed with which he turned his head, Triplet guessed he had received a cold glance.

"Perhaps." Vakir smiled. This clone was the first man to joke about him since he'd finished his Mandalorian training. It was good that these men were not afraid of him. This mission required flawless teamwork. "Who are you?"

"BT-333-9. Nicknamed Triplet. Minelayer."

"Since we'll be working together, I suggest we all introduce ourselves. Let's start with you." Vakir gestured at Charge with a slight nod.

"BC-22-4. Charge. Squad Leader, Bomb Squad L5."

"BT-323-41. Roll. Grenadier."

"BT-465-87. Def. Defuser."

"BT-422-12. Gas expert."

"No name?" the ARF trooper seemed surprised.

"Haven't found anything suitable."

"BT-341-73. Radian. Ballistics Expert."

"ARF-32-5. Darmek. Advanced Recon Force Trooper."

"Right." Vakir glanced around. "Let's make the situation clear. I will be your commander – I've got a note from Plo Koon. Charge, you'll be second. Darmek, you'll scout out an entrance to the ship."

Triplet turned to Radian. "Come on, let's go look up the schematics for that ball."

Vakir turned to follow them. "I'd better join you. Everyone else, get some rest. I'll bring a pack of chewstim to share."

• § •

A BARC speeder, piloted by Darmek, pulled up beside the LAAT Charge was boarding. Behind it, a maintenance skid slowly stopped. Vakir stepped out of the skid. It was dragging a trailer, which was sealed. As the Mandalorian went to open it, Triplet leaned out, calling, "We really need _that_ much chewstim?"

"No, just thought the droids would be jealous." Vakir opened the trailer and unloaded a missile tube. "Whoever wants this can take it."

Roll dashed out from the LAAT and grabbed the portable missile launcher. Triplet walked over and took two large boxes from the trailer. Vakir reached into the trailer, pulling out a folded tripod. "Can anyone help me get this E-Web into the ship?"

Charge looked at Vakir. "Anything else coming out of there?"

"No, that's it."

The clone pilot looked back in mock disappointment. "Nothing for me?"

"Sorry." The Mandalorian shrugged.

Radian and Def carried the E-Web on board the gunship. The pilot got out of the cockpit, removing his helmet. He turned to look at Charge. "I've got a feeling we might be seeing each other a lot. I thought it might be a good idea to get to know each other."

"Certainly." Charge returned the pilot's gaze. "You're a first-class pilot. This is the best bomb squad in the division. We'll be almost inseparable."

"Well, I'm CP-2378-121. Weave for short."

"Hello. I'm Charge, the squad leader, and these are my squad members." He proceeded to introduce his squad, noting that BT-422-12 lacked a name.

Vakir leaned against the side of the ship. "Pity, isn't it?" he turned to Weave. "Greetings. I'm Vakir Sula'e."

• § •

Darmek braked his BARC speeder. This was a good hiding place at about the right distance. He turned the speeder off and slipped it into a narrow crack, disguising it as some fallen rubble. As Vakir had advised, he laid down and rolled in the dust, masking his scent with that of his surroundings. He then carefully walked towards the core ship, a giant gray wart on the tan-red desert rocks of Hraka.

"We've got to infiltrate that monster." Darmek subdued a rising curse, substituting, "Tough." He resumed his march, watching carefully for patrols. Suddenly, he spotted a group of B1 battle droids marching on patrol about 45 meters ahead of him. He dropped to the ground as silently as possible, hiding behind a large rock. Two minutes later, the patrol passed, and Darmek proceeded, this time always staying near a good cover point.

Darmek finally arrived at the base of the ship. It had been heavily patrolled, at least three rings of five patrols each, counter-circulating. The shell of the core ship doubtless had sensors, which would detect any attempt to blast or cut in, and there only seemed to be one entrance, which was guarded heavily. After one more careful search, Darmek determined that there was nothing more he could do. He turned back and walked carefully towards his speeder.

As Darmek arrived at the hiding place of his speeder, he saw a patrol passing it. He froze. "Blast!" he murmured to himself. "How'd they get this far?" He saw one of the patrol of six looking at his speeder as the patrol approached it. The others turned to follow its gaze. Darmek knew that he had to act now. His only way out of here was about to be destroyed.

Taking careful aim with his blaster rifle, the ARF blasted the droid corporal leading the patrol. He leapt up, blasting another droid with his standard blaster before rolling behind another rock. The droids split up. Two investigated the speeder, one gave covering fire, and the other came around to attack. Using his rifle to destroy the one giving covering fire, he leapt to the other side of the rock as the droid came around, and quickly blasted the two near his speeder. He spun around and blasted the last droid as it came back around the rock, then secured his speeder. He was sure the droids had sent a call for help. His best option was to run.

Darmek got on his speeder and sped off towards headquarters, along the specified route in order to find the gunship if it had already left. He watched the horizon carefully for the gunship or any enemies. He saw nothing. He began to relax. He'd escaped.

A blast of energy barely missed Darmek's speeder. The sound made him swerve by reflex. He glanced back, spotting a pair of Single Trooper Aerial Platforms following him. He ducked and braked as a second volley shot over his head. "Stang! I hate STAPs!"

Darmek swung his speeder around, and the two STAPs swerved in opposite directions. Tracking one of them, the ARF trooper opened fire with his speeder's blaster cannons. The blasts hit behind the STAP, approaching it. The sixth blaster bolt hit the bottom of the vehicle, blowing its repulsor off and sending it crashing into the rock. Darmek swerved again as a blaster bolt from the other droid hit where he had been.

Darmek leapt off his speeder, taking aim with his sniper rifle and blasting the droid off its perch, dropping down behind a rock just as his enemy fired its last shot. He ran back to his BARC speeder and flew off. He knew very well that he had barely escaped.

• § •

Vakir Sula'e gestured to Weave. "Stop. Let's set down here and pick up our friend Darmek."

The LAAT slowly descended, finally hovering over the ground. A BARC speeder sped towards them. As it pulled up. Darmek slid off. "Kriffing closest-run mission I've ever made." The ARF trooper pulled off his helmet. His hair was matted with sweat. "Four patrol rings, five squads each. Squads of six. Two droidekas on full alert at the only door. Sensors on the ship's shell, of course. STAPs on call."

"Stang." Charge leapt off the gunship. "That's tough."

"Yep. I'm pretty sure they know we're coming."

Vakir stepped down. "Did you get the recording?"

Darmek pulled a small dome off the side of his helmet, handing it to Vakir. "See for yourself."

Vakir pulled out a datapad, and plugged the dome into it. He sat down and watched, skipping past parts that were unneeded. The clones watched in silence. He finished, and stood up. "Well. This is going to be hard."

• § • § •


	2. Chapter 2

A STAP floated, unmanned, down a hill. It was one of the vehicles that had fought Darmek, and the only one that survived. As it slid further, a patrol passed. The squad's corporal paused, inspecting the STAP. It then signaled to one of the battle droids, which mounted the vehicle and flew off towards the core ship. The patrol continued its route.

Vakir Sula'e took another look to make sure no more patrols were coming, then dashed over to his hidden speeder. He leapt on it and sped back to the LAAT, hidden just over the horizon.

When he arrived, Darmek greeted him. "How'd it go?"

Vakir nodded at him. "Perfectly. They took it without hesitation. You have nice aim – couldn't find a single mark on the speeder. It looked just as if it were abandoned."

Roll turned to the Mandalorian. "What do we do now?"

Vakir looked at him and said, "Wait."

• § •

The STAP flew through the main entrance, past the two droidekas, and was placed in the front of a row of others like it, recharging on a hanging rack. As the charge flowed into the vehicle, it was diverted into another battery. A few minutes later, a cutting laser burst through the STAP's shell, circling a portion of the metal, which fell to the ground. From the hole that had been formed emerged a MSE droid.

The droid dropped to the floor, squeaking its way towards a computer terminal. It opened its side panel, using its manipulation arm to plant a preprogrammed 'spike' in the terminal. The spike rotated, uploading a virus that breached security, then inputting a simple command.

• § •

Radian was the first to recognize the message on Vakir's datapad. "There. It's done."

Vakir looked up at the squad around him. All were focused, alert, and ready for the task. "Right," he said. "You know what to do." Without a further word, he jumped on a BARC speeder and left.

Vakir didn't mind the patrols this time. He knew that he would be found eventually, but he also knew that neither the security officer nor the security program would predict what he was going to do.

The Mandalorian arrived at the base of the core ship and looked up, holding his right arm up as if pointing to the sky. He pressed a button on his right sleeve and a cable flew out, arcing up and finally down onto a point near the top of the ship. Pressing another button, the cable began to draw in quickly, pulling Vakir up toward that point. Just as he was about to reach it, he pressed another button and the hook on the grappling cable let go. He stuck his legs down an external ventilation shaft, whose particle shield had been removed by the Mouse Droid's spike, and slid down.

At the bottom of the shaft, Vakir kicked out a filter and dropped down onto the hall floor. He glanced around, smiling. No security droids had been warned. For the moment, and the immediate future, he was in the clear.

Vakir opened the prearranged comlink channel, and called out. Immediately, a voice responded. Vakir smiled. He had them now.

The LAAT had flown high, and had ducked down behind rocks whenever Vulture droids were sent to attack them. They had found a suitable cave in a rock formation close to the ship, and had landed in there. Charge tilted his head as he heard his helmet's comlink crackle.

"This is the retreat signal. 545521." Vakir's voice was easily distinguishable; Charge silently praised Mandalorian helmets.

He responded as soon as Vakir had finished speaking. "Retreating. 992."

Charge leapt back onto the LAAT, signaling his squad to do the same. Def grabbed Weave and woke him from his rest, sending him to the cockpit. In a few moments, they were in the air.

Charge looked down through the slits in the LAAT's blast doors. He was suddenly struck with vertigo. It was a long way down.

"Coming up!" Weave shouted, breaking Charge's trance.

The squad leader immediately turned to his men. "Get the zip lines ready!"

Each clone pulled a zip line down from a row of winches lining the middle of the gunship. They attached the end of it to a socket on the back of their armor. As the LAAT approached the core ship, Weave flicked a switch. A red light came on inside the troop cavity.

"Red light," Roll said. "Stand by."

Triplet flexed his legs and stepped closer to the blast doors. He heard a few anti-aerial batteries open fire on them. He stumbled as a near miss pushed them. "Careful there, Weave!" he shouted.

Darmek stood up. Glancing around for a second, he stepped into his BARC speeder and called to the gunner. "Could you open the speeder hatch for a moment?" As a response, the hatch snapped open and Darmek slid out, using his speeder's repulsor engine to soften his fall. He had aimed well, landing in an open space. He sped off on his own.

The gunner closed the speeder hatch. A moment later, he leaned back. "I need turret gunners, now!"

BT-422-12 and Def unhooked their zip lines and leapt into the turrets. Weave shouted at them. "Take out those AA guns!"

Weave glanced back at his passengers. "Hang on!" He waited two seconds, then dropped down a few meters and did a barrel roll. Three flak shells exploded where they had been a second ago.

Def's ball turret turned, sweeping its beam through an anti-aircraft gun. The laser struck and set off a loaded shell, destroying the gun. The gunner glanced down at him. "Yes! That'll show 'em!"

Charge looked at the gunner. "I can't spare them any longer. Sorry."

Def got out as his companion did the same. They reattached their zip lines and stood. Weave flicked the switch again, and pressed a button.

"Green light!" Charge shouted as the doors opened. "Let's go!"

The clones leapt off the LAAT, sliding downwards. Each landed on the core ship, near the ventilation shaft, and unhooked their zip lines. Charge signaled for Roll to go in.

Vakir startled as Roll came sliding out of the ventilation shaft. Before the grenadier knew he'd come out of the shaft, he was disarmed and pinned against the wall, a blaster pistol to his head. The Mandalorian stepped back. "Sorry. You startled me."

Charge's voice pierced the comlink interference. "Is it safe down there?"

"Yes," Roll was laughing. "Except for one homicidal Mandalorian."

A red light flashed on Vakir's HUD. He shrugged the blaster rifle off his shoulder. "Something's coming." He checked its charge and turned the safety off. "Mouse droid's motion sensor."

Roll did the same with his rifle. Def, who had dropped down, called up the ventilation shaft. "Trouble! Come down fast or stay up."

BT-422-12 dropped down from the shaft, his rifle already prepared. "What's the situation?"

Vakir glanced over at him as he knelt behind a corner. "Probably a security patrol. Take cover."

The clone obeyed, opening a door and stepping in, where he was amazed to find a sleeping Muun. He called to his companions. "In here!"

The shout woke the room's inhabitant, who startled and rolled off her bed, groping for a blaster pistol on a table. Before she could grab it, Vakir kicked the Muun in the chin and slammed his rifle's muzzle on her head. He leaned forward slightly. "Not a word or your legacy is a bloodstain." The Muun slumped down to the floor, quieted. The other clones rushed in. Vakir noted that the entire squad had come down the shaft. Vakir took out his datapad and entered in a quick order:

MSE-344: Remove: Hacking Spike

In a few moments, Vakir received a completion message. He visibly relaxed. "There." he said. "We're safe." He shouldered his rifle and stepped back from the Muun. As soon as the Mandalorian had drawn his rifle away, his captive rolled under the bed, towards the table and the blaster pistol.

Vakir noticed the Muun's escape, leaping onto and rolling over the bed, while drawing his vibroblade. As the captive emerged from under the bed, Vakir met her with his knife at her neck.

For a moment, there was silence. The lights flickered. Vakir's knife hummed. Battle droids' feet clanked on the metal floor of the hallway.

Finally, the Mandalorian spoke. "You're right. I should've mentioned movement." He stepped on his captive's neck, suffocating her until she passed out. Vakir turned away from the squad. "Come on. Let's get moving."

The clones turned and followed him. The party slowly quieted to silence. As they walked, Roll rotated his missile tube into firing position, glancing at it. "So…" he spoke quietly. "When are we going to use this?"

The Mandalorian turned back to him. "If things go well, we won't."

"And if things go badly?"

"You'll need more than a rocket launcher to save your skin."

"Well…" Roll rotated the missile tube back into carrying position. "It'll help."

After several escapes from patrols, and two gassed inhabitants, the squad arrived at the central computer's control interface. It was a large, circular room, with several levels of catwalks leading to banks of computers on the walls. Fifty-odd pilot droids ran the routine functions, while four Muun and two Duros ran the more complex programs. A Neimoidian watched over the operation, and received orders from the captain on the bridge or the field commanders.

Vakir could see at least three security details patrolling the room. He turned to Roll. "That missile tube is going to help after all."

"Stang!" Charge retreated a little further into his hiding place. "Three Destroyers."

• § •

Darmek sped past the last patrol ring, checking his surroundings for any battle droid patrols. He had evaded every patrol so far, but he wasn't taking any chances. A battle droid suddenly appeared from behind a large stone. Darmek swore and drew his blaster pistol, firing thrice and hitting the droid with his second shot. He holstered his pistol and continued faster.

"Blast." Darmek glanced behind himself nervously, fearing the approach of STAPs. He swerved and stopped his speeder bike, his hand close to the comlink switch on his helmet. He reached closer to it, then paused. "Stang, they'll be on alert," he murmured to himself. "I'd give their position away." He looked down, thinking. "But they need to know that they'll be on alert." The ARF trooper dismounted, sitting cross-legged on the ground. He wasn't Force-sensitive, but he knew about focus from his stealth training. The clone cleared his mind.

_The Duros jabbed his blaster's muzzle into Darmek's back. The ARF trooper's breath puffed out of his filter, making a wispy white cloud. Although he couldn't directly feel it thanks to his suit, he knew it was cold enough to freeze a mynock._

_Darmek looked around the prison complex. He hated being captured. It didn't bother him that the enemy could try to do things with him – but he couldn't help his friends. That was unpardonable._

_Darmek noticed that the Duros and two battle droids were the only escort guarding him. He smiled. They had underestimated him, and given him the perfect chance. Now he only had to distract the droids…_

_The ARF trooper kicked at a wall, sending a reverberation down the hallway. All three of his escorts looked at his right foot. He spun around, punching the Duros in the face while grabbing his blaster. With two pulls of the trigger, he dispatched his two mechanical guards. He then took the Duros and locked him in one of his own cells._

_Darmek ran back to the door he had entered from, gunning down a battle droid door guard. He emerged, and ducked behind a mound of snow. For the moment, he was safe._

_The clone sat down. He didn't know how to get out of the compound. The exits were too well-guarded. He remembered the rest of the mission, still exploring the compound, while he had gotten himself captured while acting as a rear guard. He knew that the Separatists didn't yet know of the mission, because he was suspected to be a lone spy. "Kriff!" he barely kept himself from shouting. "I just put the whole compound on high alert!"_

_Darmek reached up to his helmet. He activated the comlink, opening a channel to the mission leader, Lieutenant Jesad. "Sir!"_

_To Darmek, Jesad was a hero. The Advanced Recon Force was one of the few places in the GAR which allowed promotion from any rank. Jesad was a tactical expert, and so had been promoted to lieutenant, where he respectfully declined any other promotion, fearing he would lose touch with the troops he commanded._

_Jesad answered Darmek's call. "Jesad here. Who's this?"_

_"Darmek, sir. I survived!" Darmek grinned, hoping to impress his hero._

_"Darmek! Where are you?"_

_"In the courtyard, behind a pile of snow. I can't leave, so where are you?"_

_"We're in hallway 16, on the west end. We – flack! They've been spying!"_

_Darmek froze. "Sir?" There was no response._

_The ARF trooper dashed into the building, finding hallway 16 and rushing towards the west end. He arrived to find three super battle droids pinning Jesad and one other ARF trooper down. Darmek counted the corpses he saw on the floor. All the others were dead._

_Darmek charged, shooting the droids. Jesad stayed put, but the other ARF trooper leapt out of cover, trying to assist Darmek. The clone blasted the head off one battle droid, but was hit in the chest by a second, and fell. Darmek destroyed another and Jesad rolled out from his hiding place, blasting the third._

_Darmek rushed to the injured trooper's side. After a few moments, Jesad stepped over him. "He's dead."_

_Darmek looked up at his commander. He couldn't bear the emotionless face he saw staring back at him, the same one he knew he wore. He removed his helmet._

_Jesad knelt down and followed suit, looking at Darmek. He looked down, then back at the last remaining member of his squad. He turned away, stung by the pain he saw in Darmek's eyes. The clone commander stared blankly at his dead squad._

_A battle droid sniper readied its aim. Its programming quickly determined its target: the commander. It checked its weapon a final time._

_Darmek noticed Jesad avert his gaze. He looked down in shame. "Sir," he said, finding it hard to speak. "I had no idea. I never meant to –"_

_Jesad cut him off by reaching out, touching his shoulder. "Darmek." Jesad flicked his eyes past the corpses of his friends. "It's all right. I –"_

_The sniper fired. Jesad arched back in pain and fell forward._

_"Forgive… you."_

Darmek hesitated. The ARF trooper gritted his teeth, fighting back his tears. He dropped his hand and bowed his head. A decision had been reached.

The clone mounted his speeder again. He scooted back a few centimeters on his seat and accelerated away.

• § •

Triplet looked at Charge. "Don't worry about the destroyers," he said, placing his hand on Charge's shoulder. "We've got a Mandalorian."

Vakir and Roll discussed for a moment, then Vakir leapt out from cover.

"Then again," Triplet said, "We may lose him first."

Vakir drew his blaster rifle and charged, blasting the nearest security patrol. It was unprepared for such an assault and lost a good many of its number. The droids began to fire back, and Vakir ran in front of the computer banks. A shot missed him and a computer screen narrowly. The droids held their fire.

One of the droidekas curled and rolled towards him. Roll fired his missile tube. The rocket hit the droideka dead-on and blasted it into slag. The droids turned, firing at the clones' hiding place.

One of the other security details rushed over, shooting at Vakir. He waited until they were in the clear, and rolled a grenade into their ranks. It detonated, destroying the entire security detail except for its destroyer droid. As the droideka passed him, Vakir fired into it. He hit its head, causing it to shut down and fall over.

Def charged out of cover, firing at the droids left over from the first security detail. Triplet followed him. As they passed, Def grabbed Vakir off the bank of computers and the three finished off the reduced patrol.

Every occupant of the room turned to watch the last security detail. The droids turned to face the clones. Vakir and the squad members dove for cover behind the computers. The Mandalorian drew the droids' fire from the advancing clones, finally dodging behind the computers opposite the clones.

The droids held their fire, but a few tentative attempts by Vakir to get to the other side showed that they were watching. He knelt, thinking. The clones started a gunfight, dodging behind their cover and trying to take a few droids out. He signaled them to stop. He wanted no losses here.

The Mandalorian looked over to Roll. "EMP." Vakir gestured in his own direction. "Here."

Roll grabbed two EMP grenades, and threw them over to Vakir without arming them. The Mandalorian caught them, and peeked at the droids. He pulled his head back as a blaster bolt tore past. "Stang." He armed the first grenade and slid sideways, rolling it towards the droids. He barely pulled himself back in time as a hail of blaster bolts singed his helmet. He leapt up and threw the other grenade as the first exploded. The response was notably smaller.

The second EMP detonated, and Vakir dashed out of cover, blasting at any remaining droids with his blaster rifle. A battle droid fired right in front of his head, forcing the Mandalorian to pause. He rolled as soon as the bolt had passed, and fired upon recovering, burning a pit in the droid's cranial unit.

A volley of bolts aimed at his head forced Vakir to lunge forward. He rolled sideways out of the way as a second volley charred the floor where he had been. He reared up, igniting his jetpack. As the Mandalorian took flight, he fired, as did one of the last remaining droids. The droid fell, its head separated from its body. Vakir swerved as he realized the droid had fired, but the bolt hit him square in the right shoulder. His pain forced him to release the jetpack control, dropping him to the ground. He landed on his face.

Triplet stared at the Mandalorian's body, horrified. "Vakir!" He dashed out from cover, firing at the droids. He managed to destroy the few that were still operational. As the last one fell, the droideka clambered out from behind a bank of computers.

BT-422-12 lunged, throwing an EMP grenade at the droideka and tackling Triplet to the ground. "Watch out!"

The destroyer droid curled up and rolled forward, passing the EMP. BT-422-12 and Triplet scrambled to get back to cover. Roll frantically fumbled with his missile launcher. The other clones desperately fired at the droideka, their bolts bouncing harmlessly off its armor.

Vakir propped himself up on his uninjured arm, and fired his jetpack's rocket. The projectile hit the destroyer droid head-on and scattered its parts around the room. He slumped back down.

Radian dashed over to Vakir, rolling him over. The Mandalorian looked up at the clone as he removed the former's helmet. Vakir smiled, but was interrupted by a jolt of pain that pulled his face into a wince. He looked at his shoulder. "Get this jetpack off."

Radian pulled the Mandalorian up into a sitting position, and detached his jetpack. As he set it down, Vakir steadied himself and stood up. Radian and Triplet both tried to support him, but he pushed them away. He drew his blaster pistol and moved a Duros out of his chair. He dropped himself into it, watching the pilot droids and the officers warily. He glanced back over his shoulder, shouting to the squad. "Destroy the security droids and lock the doors."

Def dashed over to the doors, closing each one. Radian, Triplet, and Roll gathered the droids, piling them on top of a remote detonation mine Triplet had set in the middle of the room. Charge rounded up the organic prisoners and confined them in a corner, while BT-422-12 did the same for the pilot droids.

Def returned, having finished with the doors. Vakir looked up at him, gritting his teeth. "Bring me that box over there," he said, gesturing to one of Triplet's boxes. "And… open it for me."

Def rushed over to the box, bringing it back at a lope. He opened the locks and opened it. Inside, in small pouches, were twenty-odd hacking spikes. Vakir looked down at the box. "Find me one that…" Vakir curled up slightly as another jolt struck him. "That says, 'Security.'"

Def searched for a moment, and brought one up in his hand. Vakir nodded, and kicked at a computer terminal on the computer banks. "Take it out and put it in there." The clone knelt, removing the spike from the pouch, and placing it in the terminal. He pressed the activation button and stood up.

The spike whirred and rotated, mesmerizing Def for a few moments. Vakir looked up at him, waking him up. "Sit down. We're going to hack the system." The Mandalorian smiled. "I love hacking spikes. Portable astromechs."

Def looked up at the Mandalorian, removing his helmet. "What do you want me to do?"

Vakir looked back at the clone. "The screen on your right is going to display an access code, once the spike finishes its hack. Copy the code to the screen on your left."

An explosion shook the room, and Def started. He looked back, and saw Roll, Triplet, and Radian had finished their job. The three approached the computers.

Triplet and Roll sat down, watching Def as he began entering the spike's code.

Radian walked over to Vakir. "Come," he said. "Let's get you taken care of."

Vakir stood up, walking over to a seat that was unneeded. He looked back at Def and his two spectators, calling over to them. "Start figuring out how this wire-bucket works. I want us identified as allies on this ship."

• § •

Weave glanced behind him as a near miss from a Vulture droid shook the gunship. He swerved right, away from the anti-aerial guns' barrage. Another three Vulture droids took off from the ground, headed straight for them. One of them fired. Weave pulled left as hard as he could. He barely avoided the blast. His gunner spoke to him through the gunship's intercom. "That was a close one. Be caref–"

An AA blast hit the gunner's cockpit dead-on. Weave knew that the gunner was probably smeared all over the gunship. The damage impaired the LAAT, which started to fall. The pilot ejected.

As he rocketed through the air, Weave saw several anti-aerial guns tracking him. He unfastened himself from his seat and leapt out. His eyes widened as he fell. It was a long way down.

Weave landed with a sickening thud on the sand around the core ship. He pulled himself to his knees painfully. Suddenly, a fist slammed into the back of his helmet. He heard a super battle droid's monotone bass voice. "Drop your weapon."

Weave slowly let his blaster go. It fell to the ground with a puff of sand. The super battle droid moved its fist down to the clone's back. "Hands on your head. This way." Weave followed the direction the droid pushed him. He felt sick. Jumping from his ejector seat was not the brightest thing he'd done.

Weave stumbled. He felt faint. The droid interpreted this as defiance. "Keep moving."

The clone obeyed, trying his best to stay upright. A few paces later, though, he tripped on a rock and fell flat on the ground. He heard the super battle droid's blasters cock and charge. He closed his eyes.

After a few moments, the clone rolled over and opened his eyes. The super battle droid had retracted its weapon, and stood with its hands at its sides, staring blankly ahead. It turned back towards him, and Weave recoiled. It turned away and walked off. He sat up, relieved and very puzzled. He walked back slowly and retrieved his blaster.

• § •

Darmek activated his helmet comlink and opened a channel to Plo Koon. "Sir!" He was close enough to speak with the headquarters now.

Plo Koon's voice crackled back at him. "Who is this?"

"Sir, it's the scout for the mission to the Core Ship. They have a special request."

"Come in and we'll discuss it."

"Sir, could we discuss it in private?"

"Certainly. I'll be waiting for you."

"Won't be a minute, General!"

Darmek pulled his speeder up next to the command building. He rushed inside. General Koon spotted him and brought him back outside, behind the building. "What's the situation?"

"Sir," Darmek removed his helmet. "They want to steal the ship."

The Jedi looked at Darmek for a moment. The clone was irritated that he couldn't read the General's expression because of his mask and goggles. Finally, Plo Koon spoke. "Most intelligent of them," he shrugged. "What should I do?"

"They feel that any information you have on CIS codes and protocol would be helpful, sir." Darmek bowed his head.

"Of course. Just a moment." The Jedi stepped back into the building.

Darmek leaned back on the wall. He wondered how the others were doing.

Plo Koon emerged from the building, carrying a small box. "This is all the data we have. It's a reserve copy, so I don't need it back. I hope it proves useful."

The clone put his helmet back on. "Sir." He bowed in thanks.

The General put his hand on Darmek's shoulder. "May the Force be with you."

• § •

A comlink buzzed in the corner of the computer room. Triplet rushed to the corner, where a confused and frightened Neimoidian sat. "Answer it," Triplet held his blaster to the Neimoidian's head. "Acknowledge and hang up. Act normally."

The Neimoidian, terrified, answered. "Sir."

A voice spoke out through the comlink. "Filar, put the security on high alert. We shot down a gunship and spotted a fleeing scout."

"Right, sir." The Neimoidian hesitated for a second. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I'm being held pris–"

Triplet pulled the trigger, vaporizing half the Neimoidian's skull. The officer slumped to the ground.

The clones looked up from their work, watching Triplet. The prisoners did the same. For once, Triplet was glad of the blank frown on his helmet. He turned to the surviving prisoners. "No funny business or the next one is you."

Vakir looked back over at Roll, helping him finish ordering a general retreat to the ship.

BT-422-12 spun around in his chair, facing Charge. "They shot down our LAAT!"

Vakir turned. "Why? Aren't we recognized as friends?"

Def leaned back, looking at the Mandalorian. "They shot it down just before we hacked in."

"What the –" Roll twisted to face Vakir. "Weave's out there!"

"And the gunner?" Vakir started to stand up, but fell back into his chair.

Def glanced back at the screen, then slumped. "Creamed by an AA."

Vakir exhaled, lowering his head. "What'd they do with Weave?"

Def leaned in towards the screen. "Nothing. They were bringing him as a prisoner when he became a friend. He's still out there."

"We've got to go get him." Again Vakir tried to stand. Radian grabbed him and eased him back into his chair. Vakir looked up at the clone, visibly frustrated. He knew he was losing strength, and he hated it. "Any volunteers?"

Triplet stood up. "I'll do it."

"Right." Looking down, Vakir opened a pouch on his right leg. From it he withdrew a datapad. "Here's a map. Good luck."

Triplet took the datapad and left.

• § •

Triplet walked briskly through the hall, following his map. He didn't trust the droids, hacking or not. He heard a security squad approaching and he ducked into a dark recess in the wall.

He reached into a compartment on his belt, retrieving a small wooden sphere. The clone rolled it along his finger as he thought about its origin. The ball brought him good luck. He'd found it on his first mission, where his ducking to grab it had saved his life. It had been roughly round then, but two months of wear had shaped it an almost-perfect sphere. Triplet smiled.

The clone looked up. The security squad had passed. He dropped the sphere back into the compartment and stepped back out, heading for the exit. As he stepped out, he spotted Darmek approaching on his speeder. He raised his hand in greeting.

Darmek stopped at the entrance, leaping off his speeder. He had his rifle pointed at Triplet. "Take your helmet off."

Triplet obeyed, though he was confused by the request. "Okay." He leaned forward, reaching up and pulling his helmet from his head.

Darmek looked at him for a moment. "Good. And the droidekas? I suppose they take computer orders too?"

Triplet smiled and nodded. "They think on their own, but take strategic orders from the computer. We are now friends."

Darmek nodded slowly. "Right."

Triplet replaced his helmet, activating the comlink inside it. "Hey, who can tell me where Weave is now?"

Def's voice responded. "About a fifth of the way around from you, clockwise."

"Thanks." Triplet turned and started walking in the specified direction. Darmek mounted on his speeder. "Did something happen to Weave?"

"He got shot down, but he should be fine."

Darmek turned his speeder to face in the direction Triplet was walking. "Get on. We have to make sure he isn't hurt."

Triplet mounted behind Darmek, and the two sped off towards Weave.

• § •

Radian looked down at Vakir. "That's all I can do for now. If we still had the LAAT, I could – stang, I could've used the medical droid on that gunship. Well, it's all gone now."

Vakir looked up at the clone. "This is an inhabited ship. It'll have a medical droid somewhere, and some supplies. We should find it."

"How?" Charge stepped up behind Vakir, causing the Mandalorian to look up at a particularly uncomfortable angle. He winced and slumped back on his chair. Charge walked around in front of Vakir. "This is the military computer. It doesn't have info on that."

"The bridge computer does." Vakir leaned forward, towards BT-422-12. "I said we'd get to the bridge eventually. Send a squad up there to arrest the organics. See if they'll go peacefully."

The clone obeyed, typing a few commands into the computer. He glanced at the external security monitor as he executed the commands. "Hey, Darmek's back."

Vakir sat up. "Good. Get him up here."

Def looked over at the Mandalorian. "I was just speaking with Triplet a moment ago. They should be in comm range." He touched the side of his helmet, activating his comlink.

Vakir turned back towards BT-422-12. "How's the arrest patrol doing?"

The clone looked sideways at the screen. He paused for a moment, then turned to face the computer. "They're about to enter. This should be interesting."

The Mandalorian brought a security cam image up on a screen in front of him. He watched intently.

The droids entered easily, and their corporal approached the ship's captain to make a formal announcement of arrest. Vakir took the chance to inspect the security of the bridge. "Stang. That Gossam is careful."

Radian leaned in to look at Vakir's screen. "What?"

Vakir pointed to the screen. "He's got three bodyguard droids. IG-100s."

"Oh."

"Who's going up against them?" Vakir looked at the clones for volunteers.

Roll turned to face the Mandalorian. "The droids, I hope."

"We'll see about that."

The battle droid corporal stepped around behind the Gossam, trying to get the captain moving. He didn't budge, instead waving his hand at the bodyguards. One of the IG-100 MagnaGuards swung its staff, simultaneously short-circuiting and decapitating the droid. It fell to the floor, spitting sparks.

The other battle droids opened fire on the MagnaGuards, one of which fell, hit in the chest. The other two charged, easily destroying the detachment.

Vakir leaned back. "That's not good." He turned his chair to face the squad. "Any suggestions?"

Charge looked up. "Droidekas."

Vakir smiled. "Excellent. Let's try that." He turned back to the computer, entering commands.

Three droidekas were released from their charging sockets. They dropped to the floor, already folded, and spun off along the hallways.

Def looked up from his screen. "They just passed my camera."

Vakir leaned towards his own screen. "Well then, they should arrive just about … now."

The droidekas rolled up to the door. Vakir grunted in frustration. "They closed the blast doors."

"Hack the door switch." BT-422-12 said.

"It'll take me too long to get up there."

"Use your mouse droid."

Vakir grinned. "Good idea." He reached into his pocket. "Tsk. I gave my pad to Triplet."

A door snapped open. "That's all right." Triplet walked in, followed by Darmek and Weave. "I've got it right here."

• § •

The Gossam who commanded the ship was nervous. The droid squad had come dangerously close to capturing him. He wasn't going to let it happen again.

The captain looked at his two bodyguards. Their faces were just as expressionless as they had always been. He wondered what expressions droids would use if they were capable.

Without warning, the doors opened again. Three droidekas opened fire. The Gossam ran for cover, trying to position himself close to the window.

The MagnaGuards attacked. IG-112 rolled under a blast, coming back up with its staff planted at the bottom of a droideka's shield. The destroyer droid flipped over, automatically folding in the process. It rolled away, quickly turning around and coming back.

IG-112 threw its staff, puncturing the rolling droideka's armor and destroying it. As the MagnaGuard ran for its staff, a second droideka blasted its head off. The bodyguard droid continued, grabbing its staff and leaping back to rejoin the fight.

IG-113 leapt on top of another droideka, plunging its staff into the droid's shield. The shield failed and the MagnaGuard dismantled the destroyer droid in three quick swings of its staff.

The two IG-100s turned to face the last droideka. As it fired, the bodyguards leapt out of the way. IG-113 swatted at the droid's shield, sending it skidding across the floor. IG-112 caught the droideka with its staff, flipping the droid over.

The droideka folded, rolling away. IG-113 leapt in front of it and catapulted it back into the room. IG-112 readied its staff to impale the droid.

The droideka unfolded, using its legs to catch and push off from IG-112's staff. It folded again and rolled around behind IG-113, bowling the MagnaGuard over. It redeployed, blasting IG-112.

IG-113 got back up. It leapt up at the ceiling as the droideka fired, blasting its leg off. The bodyguard grabbed a pipe on the ceiling and swung towards the droideka folded and rolled backwards. The MagnaGuard propped itself up on one leg and one hand and hobbled across the floor. It charged, but was stopped as its head and other leg flew off. IG-113 dropped to the floor.

The droideka walked over to the Gossam and led him slowly out. As the captain was about to leave, IG-113 flipped onto the front of the droideka's shield, protecting its master. The destroyer droid fired as its shield began to fail, and the MagnaGuard flew off, destroyed.

The Gossam had had enough of the fight. He dashed towards the window and drew a small blaster pistol. He fired and leapt out of the shattered window.

• § •

Vakir turned to look at Def. "He won't survive that jump."

Triplet jerked back in surprise. "There he is."

Vakir looked at the body. It was about twice as large as when the captain had jumped, and looked flat. The Mandalorian nodded. "Dead." He turned to BT-422-12. "Get some repair droids to make the bridge airtight again. We need to be able to fly this thing." The clone nodded.

"Sir!" Roll waved his arm to attract the Mandalorian's attention. "The last of the ship's complement is returning. We can pack up and leave in fifteen minutes."

Vakir smiled, putting his helmet back on. "Then let's do so." He looked over at Charge. "I'm leaving you in command down here. I'm going up on the bridge with Darmek and, if you can spare him, Radian."

Charge shook his head. "Sorry, I can't spare Radian. Take, uh … you can take Twelve."

"Right, Darmek and … Twelve, come with me." Vakir gestured, standing up. The three walked out.

Charge looked over at Roll. "Bring the patrols in. Start on the outside."

Roll nodded and began inputting commands.

• § • § •


End file.
